My First Attempt at Poetry

Waiting

The cracks in the lane you last walked, to go away, are still waiting;

The ears which waited for your footsteps everyday are still waiting.

The place where we sat midst the deafening silences of night,

And where we felt calm in cricket crowd uproar are still waiting.

Waiting is the mother’s affection and the banter and teasing of father;

Their dreams of seeing you walk in with your spouse are still waiting.

The magic of mountains making a smiling face feel like benediction,

Earth’s risings to heavens, making one feel alive yet again, are still waiting.

Trying to clasp on to moments, while time slips away like sand,

And while the unraveled timeless frozen truths are still waiting.

Each moment an unmade choice between direction of heart, head and soul;

Drifting through the events while thousands of doors are still waiting.